


A Hand With Promise

by theeverdream



Series: The Enterprise Pub [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stage Magician, Bisexual Picard, Declarations Of Love, Human Q, Human Trois, I think Human Data, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeverdream/pseuds/theeverdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In England in the early 21st century:</p><p>Picard owns a pub and is annoyed by Q.</p><p>Q is a magician and acts like a jerk but it's possible that he's secretly kind of in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hand With Promise

**Author's Note:**

> This fic inspired artwork by [sleepysnowfinch](http://sleepysnowfinch.tumblr.com/) [here](http://sleepysnowfinch.tumblr.com/post/148981468259). Go check it out - it's amazing! Huge thanks to such a wonderful artist!
> 
> Thanks also to my husband for being my beta and cheerleader.

Jean-Luc Picard entered his pub today from the front entrance, not the staff door like usual. He looked at the signs on and above the door as a patron would and felt immense pride for all that he had worked for. He had spent his morning reflecting on his life, and he liked what he saw. 

Normally it was straight to the pub, but not today. The staff of The Enterprise had gotten together and had more or less forbidden him from entering his own pub until well past opening, saying he needed to do something else with his birthday morning besides work. He'd enjoyed the time off, but was glad to be seeing his staff too, as he was fortunate to be able to call all of them his friends.

And they knew him well, each giving him a birthday present that was appropriate to his interests. He especially enjoyed the astrolabe clock from Data, his office manager, and the custom-made Earl Grey tea-based cocktail that Deanna had given him. The clock would look beautiful in his home, and the cocktail beautifully showed off the sensitivity to flavors that made Deanna such a creative bartender.

 

* * * * *

 

Coming in the next day, however, was not as nice. 

When he got to the office, Data handed him an envelope. "This was supposed to be given to you on your birthday, but I thought waiting would make your birthday happier."

"Why?" said Jean-Luc. "Bad news?" 

"No," Data started, but Jean-Luc had already opened the envelope and the card inside, his eyes going immediately to the signature, a single letter written with a flourish.

"Oh, I see," groaned Jean-Luc. "It's Q!"

"Yes," said Data. “Last time he was here he gave the envelope to Will at the bar, and Will gave it to me for safekeeping to give to you on your birthday.”

"It was good of you to wait. I would not want a single moment of my day of peaceful reflection and time with friends to be spent thinking of that man."

"Tell me how you really feel," said Data.

Jean-Luc harrumphed and turned to leave the office with a muttered "Yes, well, carry on" but turned back. "Do you really mean that?"

"It was meant as a witticism. However, I would be quite happy to serve as a listening ear."

"Perhaps," started Jean-Luc, "I would feel better getting it off my chest."

"Certainly."

Jean-Luc didn't say anything for a moment. "But it seems I don't know where to begin."

"It is known by the staff from your mannerisms that you do not like Q, yet I gather that you have held back in speaking of it out of thoughtfulness for Deanna."

"Yes, he leads a boisterous crowd - too much so for my tastes."

Q was a stage magician, touring mainly England but also other parts of Britain, and coming into The Enterprise whenever he was in town. Deanna's mother Lwaxana was part of his act, and also seemed, based on the dynamics of the group Q normally brought into The Enterprise, to be his friend.

The group was loud and rowdy. A woman named Kes was usually with the group and as closing time approached, would come to apologize as if she herself was also exasperated, albeit fondly, and sometimes leave an extra tip depending on what had happened that night. Jean-Luc appreciated Kes's efforts but would rather Q's group not come in at all.

But, he was admitting to himself, it didn't stop there.

"And I feel rather foolish saying this, Data, and I'll thank you to keep it between us...."

"Of course."

"I don't care for how Q treats me on a personal level. He speaks to me as though I am beneath him, barely worthy of a single moment of his time, yet simultaneously there is a glint in his eye, a manner to his body language that seems to suggest a perverse enjoyment of my inferiority."

"I have not interacted with Q personally; is this not how he treats everyone?"

"He does have an arrogance about him that seems to be pervasive yet I can't help but feel that he seeks me out specifically."

Not to mention the annoying pet names Q had for him and nobody else, ones that seemed specifically designed to make fun of Jean-Luc's French heritage. 

Or the way that, while Q certainly demonstrated little card tricks once to anyone new he happened upon, he taunted Jean-Luc with them repeatedly after he had said he didn't like magic.

Jean-Luc continued, "I do not exist to be anyone's plaything, or object of contempt for my more practical nature."

Data looked thoughtful. "If Q thinks there is anything wrong with you or that you are inferior in any way, then he is gravely in error."

Jean-Luc nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Data."

 

* * * * *

 

A week later, Jean-Luc was restocking the bar in the moments before opening, while nearby Will was spinning glasses and shakers, showing Deanna a new element to the tricks that he liked to share with the patrons.

Jean-Luc was crouched down, so he didn't see through the window the crowd coming up the walk.

Will did, though - "Q's here," he announced.

Jean-Luc had been expecting Q to come sometime soon - as mental preparation he checked Q's tour dates as a matter of course, and he knew that whenever the tour came nearby, Q and his group would be around sooner rather than later. 

Jean-Luc liked to be right as much as the next person, but in this case he would gladly have taken being proven wrong.

Perhaps feeling less restrained from his talk with Data, he found himself grumbling "Why does _this_ have to be his most adored pub?"

He didn't expect a response, but he heard Deanna reply, mostly to Will but definitely so that he could hear too. "I don't think it's the _pub_...."

He had scarcely enough time to blink before Q was there, right in his face, saying " _mon ami_ " and "it's been too long!" and "didn't you miss me," and Picard felt a small headache forming, presumably in the region of his brain that dealt with interpersonal relationships.

 

* * * * *

 

What Deanna said started to percolate within Jean-Luc's mind. 

The pride he had in his pub and his staff and wasn't unearned; The Enterprise had quite a good reputation. It would be natural for someone like Q to be attracted to the pub itself - the atmosphere carefully cultivated, Will and Deanna's drinks and congeniality inviting, Geordi and Miles's food superb - and then to find poking fun at its owner a nice bonus. 

That was always what Jean-Luc had assumed, or would have if he'd even thought it worth questioning.

He knew Deanna didn't talk to her mother about Q's personal business, and Q never seemed to talk to Deanna much, preferring to converse with his friends when not bothering Jean-Luc. So if Q found anything interesting in The Enterprise beyond what anyone else would, she probably didn't know for sure.

But she was perceptive, and Jean-Luc was inclined to place trust in her assessment.

Which would mean it wasn't really the pub that Q adored.

 

* * * * *

 

Two nights later, Q was back again. The group was a little smaller this time, which Jean-Luc appreciated, both for the noise quality and for the fact that it would be easier to observe Q. Of course Q attempted at all times to be the center of attention, but Jean-Luc wanted to look at the details. 

If he greeted Q as though he wasn't displeased to see him, would Q tone down the bravado a little? Would Q steal glances his way as Jean-Luc contrived reasons to enter the non-staff areas of the pub more often than normal? If he brought the table their food personally, would Q react warmly?

Yes, apparently.

But it still didn't really tell him very much. Based on Q's past actions, Jean-Luc couldn't easily accept the idea that Q could like him, yet all through the evening he found himself wondering if it didn't seem to fit somehow, too.

And if that was the case, well. Jean-Luc didn't want a relationship with someone who engaged in metaphorical pigtail pulling just because they found someone a little compelling. He decided to talk to Q, and perhaps if Jean-Luc was able to lay his cards on the table they would come to an agreement about their future interactions, keeping the platonic nature of them and, with any luck, vastly increasing their professionalism.

 

* * * * *

 

Jean-Luc wanted to ask Q to take a walk with him, as he didn't think conversing in sight of Q's crowd would be conducive to the less flamboyant, straightforward style of conversation he hoped Q was capable of. He realized that cornering Q after a night of drinking wouldn't do anything to help that, but he wasn't sure what else to do, and it seemed as though Q hadn't had a lot to drink tonight, anyway.

As Will announced last call, Jean-Luc was waiting in the little hallway leading to the office, attempting to see if he could get Q on his own to make the request. Sure enough, Q approached the pub to order the last round for his group, and Jean-Luc approached him as he was finishing the order.

"Q, I was wondering if you'd like to get some fresh air and talk with me."

Q looked surprised. "I'd never hesitate to see what you have in store for me, _mon ami_ ," but the nickname fell flat, almost as if Q were slightly... afraid?

Q turned to Will, his bravado intact again as he said "Disregard that last drink." 

Will nodded. "And I'll make sure these get to your table for you."

As they passed by Q's friends on the way to the exit, Q said "I'll see you all tomorrow," and then they were outside, the air crisp and refreshing, and Jean-Luc headed them down the sidewalk and wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

 

* * * * *

 

Jean-Luc had planned to get to the point directly, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was Q's face, nervous and expectant.

"Where are you from?" he asked Q.

Apparently the question put Q on firmer ground, for he answered haughtily, "It's on my Wikipedia page; haven't you read it?"

"No. And I want to talk to you, not your internet aggrandizements."

"Talk to me? Why, Jean-Luc, whatever's brought about this sudden change of heart?"

Jean-Luc turned and stared at Q, not quite knowing how to answer.

"Fine," sulked Q, " I won't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Jean-Luc decided to skip the topic of background, favoring more inconsequential things; surprisingly, they had on the whole a pleasant, if somewhat meaningless, conversation as they circled back around to the pub.

Jean-Luc asked, "Shall we continue our conversation inside?"

"I do believe your fine establishment is closed."

"Come on," he said. "I'll make you that drink."

 

* * * * *

 

Drinks made and brought back to the table, Jean-Luc found himself saying "So, I don't think you hate me."

"What? Of course I don't hate you."

Picard raised an eyebrow.

"I don't! _You_ didn't like _me_ , right from the beginning! Lwaxana had told me so much about you, and as I observed you I was drawn by your effortless authority, your attention to detail, the way your face lit up when you were amused. I wanted to be your friend and I, I couldn't stay away even though you had expressed such displeasure with me. I distanced myself through acting somewhat disingenuous, I suppose, but I never meant for you to think I hated you." Q sighed.

"Distancing indeed. In all your interactions with me, you never even introduced yourself. Why even now continue to allow me to call you by the name you use for your act?"

Q's eyes seemed like they were seeing something far away. "My family doesn’t like me very much and... once I was of age I officially rejected the name they gave me. Q _is_ my legal name. But I do apologize for the lack of introduction."

"I apologize for making assumptions about your name."

"Oh, no need, no need. It sounds like a stage name, and I've certainly been pretentious enough in other areas that it would be fair to assign me that quality here as well.

"And the nicknames you use for me?"

"You think I’m making fun." It was half a question, half certainty. 

"Well, aren’t you?"

Q shook his head solemnly.

"Well, I'm very glad to know the truth."

"The truth that I don't hate you? Yes, but there’s more." He continued softly, "Oh, Jean-Luc, you don’t know the half of it."

"Would you like to share?"

"I suppose I could leave it here. I suppose it should be enough, the thought that we might go on to be proper friends now that we've had this talk. But it's not. It's not nearly enough."

"What are you saying, Q?"

"That I don't intimidate easily. Not when the stakes are such that I could gain or lose one friend, however special he might turn out to be, when I already have many friends I hold dear."

There was a pause.

"Are you going to make me say it, Jean-Luc?"

He felt he knew what Q was getting at, but - "Oh, very much, I should think."

"Fine. I admire you. I _adore_ you. I want you to kiss me. I want to wake up next to you. I want to have devastatingly intellectual conversations about French literature and history and astronomy and how you're feeling on any given day. ...I want to see your face light up when I do a trick, not because you like magic but because you like _me_."

"That's... that's quite a lot, Q."

"Yes, well. I've shown you all my cards. Tell me if it's a good hand or a bad one?"

"I need time - "

Q looked crestfallen. "I understand."

He didn't want to see Q look crestfallen. Jean-Luc had felt comfortable on their walk, as if talking with a friend, and the subjects were light but there was an undercurrent of intelligence and curiosity behind Q's remarks. And Jean-Luc could now finally admit to himself the qualities he had seen in Q before: cleverness, charisma, seeming loyalty to his friends. So he replied, firm and gentle at once, "Surely you realize that's not an outright rejection? If nothing you said held any... allure for me, I would tell you now."

"So, time… to evaluate your own feelings, perhaps?"

"Exactly." He didn’t know if Q’s cards were good or bad, but he could feel something stir in his chest as he thought. 

Jean-Luc took a deep breath. "It is a hand with promise, Q."

Q's smile was radiant.

 

********  
**Optional Epilogue**

"It's only been a short time but I can see it: those men were made for each other." 

Deanna didn't need to ask who her mother had called to talk about. 

"Don't you agree, dear?"

"They certainly seem happy," replied Deanna.

"They do! And you know what Q told me, he said he's much more relaxed, and I can see it - Jean-Luc must be a talented- 

"I don't need to hear about my boss's sex life, Mother."

"Well it's not just the sex! Jean-Luc came to a show just last week, and afterwards in the dressing room they were just cuddled together, both looking completely _smitten_."

"I'm glad they’re able to share their professions -" Deanna started.

"But you know, I do think they have _loads_ of sexual chemistry -"

"I'm hanging up now, mother," Deanna replied, with a lightness to her tone that spoke of fondness for her mother, and a song in her heart for the happiness she'd been seeing on her boss's face.


End file.
